“marvellously small” (and a story about french fries)

“This reverence that I have in mind is a holy, respectful fear of our Lord, which is joined to humility: and that means that one sees the Lord as marvellously great, and the self as marvellously small… And therefore though we are in so much pain, woe, and distress that it seems we can think of nothing but the state we are in and what we are feeling, we should pass over it lightly and dismiss it as nothing as soon as we can” (Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, Long Text  65).

It’s sort of like those lovely Japanese paintings of vast mountains and other landscapes with one person in the background, swallowed up by the scenery. (Somehow my google skills are not sharp enough to actually find one of these paintings as an example, but if someone finds one, could you send it to me? Dad?)

Also of note: had twelve children this afternoon! They were wondrously well-behaved and sweet! And my sweet husband is making a pizza for dinner! (A pizza place in town sells dough pretty cheap & it is so tasty!)

Of further note: John and I strolled through Front St Beaufort last night, just at twilight and watched sailboats go by– one of which contained two people speaking loudly over the wind to each other in French. How I miss that language. We finally got hungry, though we had resolved not to eat out– and saw a sign that said the something or other grill. Ah, I thought.  A grill, by definition, is a relatively inexpensive place that sells french fries. (We wanted something cheap, and I wanted something hot and greasy. Alas). We walked in, and lo, it was a white linen tablecloth kind of place. We were dressed in jeans and sweats. But we made our way to the bar and chatted with the bartender, who was an elegant man– elegant enough to not bat an eye when we asked for fries, which he clearly does not sell a la carte. But he brought us some– and some broccolini and cheddar soup. And the fries were, I am not lying, cooked in TRUFFLE OIL and sprinkled with parmesan cheese and served with a malt aoli. They were worth every penny of the seven dollars the basket cost. (It was a big basket– maybe even two whole potatoes’ worth– we both ate our fill and then some.) It was truly one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten. (n.b.– I have been scouring google images for a picture of french fries that looks even relatively like what we ate last night, and none have been found. i vow to return there soon & photograph those fries so that you all can see what I’m talking about.)

Looking back over this post, it is sad that I have spent most of it talking about french fries. Also sad that I have failed twice to find images on google to illustrate my points. Alas.


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